┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
six
princess ottilie
┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade station nearly eight hours later. The sky was shades of orange and pink when Ottilie stepped off the train car into the cool mountain air. Her travel companions, who'd talked nonstop the entire ride while she practiced simple charms from her Charms textbook (and who seemed either incapable or unwilling to get the hint that Ottilie did not want to talk), were on her heels.
She stopped to look around for a moment, though it was hard to see well when every Hogwarts student was getting out of the train at once. In front of her, there was a brick retaining wall holding back a steep, grassy hill thick with fragrant pine trees. In the distance to her right, she could barely see the rooftops and chimneys of a little town nestled at the base of a rugged mountain.
That was Hogsmeade, she supposed.
It was difficult to see the other direction through the crowd, aside from some more peaks in the distance.
She was just about to start following the rest of the crowd but jumped when Ernie grabbed her upper arm. She turned to see he'd grabbed Justin's too, who looked too nervous to have taken much notice.
Ernie, on the other hand, was beaming. "Merlin, I can't believe I'm finally here! I can't wait to see the castle! Oh, I can't wait to get Sorted!"
Ottilie tugged her arm out of Ernie's nearly painful grasp when the trio heard a deep, gruff voice cut through the commotion.
"Firs' years, firs' years!"
She lifted her head to squint over the crowd, which turned out to be unnecessary because the person who'd been shouting was the tallest man Ottilie had ever seen. He was probably twice as tall as her dad, who was a bit taller than average himself. And this man wasn't exactly slender either.
He was holding up a lantern and had long, black hair and an equally enormous shaggy beard.
"Good god," Justin muttered to himself. "Who is that?"
Ernie was staring. "I don't know, but I wouldn't want to get on his bad side. He looks like he could crush any of us with only his thumb."
"Firs' years, over here!"
Ottilie and the two boys dropped off their things. Ernie assured Bluebell, his Chantilly-Tiffany cat with blue-black fur, he'd see her again soon. She, Ottilie, rolled her eyes at him.
The group of small first years gathered at the end of the platform where wood became a narrow dirt path with trees towering over them on either slide. After a careful trek down the sloping path of damp dirt, they emerged on the bank of a vast lake. Resting placidly on the water were a dozen small wooden boats with lanterns at their bows. Ottilie, Ernie, and Justin leaned all the way to the side to see over the mirror-black surface of the water to spot Hogwarts in the distance.
"Wow! It's even grander than I was expecting!" Ernie said, breathily, using Justin's shoulder as an anchor, so he didn't fall over.
Justin nodded. "It's the biggest castle I've ever seen, certainly."
Ottilie didn't say anything, but she couldn't help but agree. She stood still, Ernie and Justin standing close behind, and waited until it was their turn to get into the boat. When it finally drifted over to the bank of the lake of its own volition, Ottilie went first. She carefully stepped over the back row of benches and sat at the front so she could get a better view of the castle and the mountain range surrounding the lake.
Ernie allowed Justin to sit next to Ottilie, reasoning they should have the best view, as this was all new to them. A boy with wavy, light brown hair and pensiveness in his eyes sat next to Ernie in the back.
The enormous man who had been leading them was in his own boat now, which was almost three times larger than everyone else's.
"Everyone in?" he called out, surveying the fleet surrounding him. When he was satisfied that everyone was safely in their boat, he gave a decisive nod. "Right then—forward!"
The little boats began to glide over the glassy surface of the lake. A hush fell upon the first years, everyone seeming to be entranced by the same sight. On the other side of the lake, perched atop of sheer cliff, was Hogwarts Castle. Ottilie opened her eyes as wide as they would go and held her breath.
The castle was obviously ancient—Romanesque and built entirely of stone. There were many towers, shooting into the sky at dizzying heights, implausible turrets branching off of them to hang precariously in the air. Reflections of the sky washed many of the castle's windows in shades of pink, but a warm glow was flickering behind others.
"Heads down!"
Ottilie hadn't realized they had already made it across the lake until then. Her neck was aching from the way she was craning it up, trying to see all the way up the craggy cliffside, drinking in every detail of the castle.
The front of her boat passed through a curtain of ivy. She held up an arm to stop herself from getting hit with vegetation as they entered a wide opening in the cliff's face.
"Oh my god, I feel like I'm dreaming," Justin said, a mix of exhilarated and terrified.
They were in an underground harbor, the rock walls lined with lamps that cast strange shadows on the opposite wall. The first years climbed out of their boats and onto the wooden dock.
They were crowded together, their excited voices echoing against the rock. The giant, still holding his lantern, ensured that each new student was accounted for, and then led them up a narrow, winding passageway in the rock.
They emerged above ground, stepping onto damp grass directly in front of the castle. Justin and Ernie were still following her, talking feverishly about how excited they were to get Sorted. She ignored them, studying the huge, rounded oak doors in front of her. Their escort reached out a terrifyingly large fist and knocked.
Once again, a hush fell over the children as they watched the door open. Ottilie was holding her breath. Light spilled out over the grass and heat whirled over her skin. Involuntarily, she gasped sharply, almost as though she'd come out of the water for air.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said the giant, a smile in his voice.
The stern-faced witch gave the man a nod. "Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
Slowly, first years filed into the castle's entrance hall. There were exclamations of awe and delight all around Ottilie, but she couldn't find enough air to make any comments.
The hall was vast enough that she reckoned Nana Chiyo's entire house could fit comfortably on top of the flagstone floor. The walls, also of stone, were lined with torches, their flames causing the nearby suits of armor to glitter. The students were facing a striking marble staircase that led up to a chamber containing a complex system of additional staircases and whose walls were decorated haphazardly with hundreds of paintings.
When Ottilie looked up, the ceiling was so high she could hardly see it.
"Is that painting moving?" Justin whispered behind her. Ottilie couldn't have known which painting he was talking about because, upon closer inspection, she could see indistinct movement coming from all of them.
"Of course!" Ernie said. "They all do."
The children followed McGonagall farther into the entrance hall. To her right, there was a set of double doors big enough that they could have belonged to a barn. Inside, Ottilie could hear the droning of hundreds of voices.
McGonagall, instead, took them through a much smaller door into a room off the main hall. The new students pushed themselves in, and Ottilie gritted her teeth as she was sardined to the side.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," said McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."
Ottilie was having trouble listening. She was keyed up—every atom in her body seemed to be vibrating, and the sensitivity of every nerve was turned up as far as it would go. What she felt wasn't excitement or nervousness, really. It was just so much all at once.
She had never been in a place quite like this. In Diagon Alley, she'd thought the street's magic was intense. But it was nothing compared to this castle.
The magic here surged at her from every angle, flooding her system. The castle itself felt alive, keeping magic within the walls and behind every door. She worried that touching anything would shock her, like touching a live wire.
There was a strange sensation at the back of her mind like the castle knew that she was here. It was not hostile, nor was it welcoming. Just aware.
"I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."
McGonagall went to open the door on the far side of the room, allowing the commotion from the Great Hall to pour into the small chamber room. When the door was closed again, the children began whispering.
"How does Sorting work?" Justin asked Ernie, his face as pale as ever. He was slightly sweaty.
Ernie pursed his lips and then shook his head, his eyebrows knitting. "I don't know. I should've asked my parents."
"Do you think it'll be a test of some kind? Maybe I should've practiced some spells—AH!" Justin's scream was accompanied by several others. Ottilie flinched and wheeled around to see what had spooked her fellow first years.
She gaped at the scene—ghosts, white and slightly transparent, had come out of the chamber's back wall. They glided across the room, their feet floating above the floor.
Ernie excitedly pointed at one ghost, a small, plump man who looked like a monk. "That's the Fat Friar, the one who I was telling you about," he whispered to Justin and Ottilie excitedly.
"New students!" the friar said, smiling. "About to be Sorted, I suppose."
It seemed most were too shocked to answer, though a few managed weak nods.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."
Justin was grinning meekly, his teeth slightly chattering. "He seems nice."
McGonagall returned as the ghosts disappeared through the opposite wall. Ottilie followed close behind the students in front of her, eager to get out of the crowded room.
Once again, Ottilie felt the breath get knocked out of her lungs. The Great Hall was the most fantastic place she'd seen in the castle yet. It was a large room with tall ceilings, more brightly lit than anywhere so far due to the many thousands of candles floating in the air, far above everyone's heads. There were four long tables where the rest of the students were sitting, and another long table at the very back of the hall where the professors were, an extraordinary stained glass rose window behind them.
Hundreds of candlelit faces were directed at Ottilie. Though she knew that none of them were looking at her specifically, her heart gave a sputtering kick within her chest. She looked up at the ceiling to avoid the stares and was surprised to be looking directly at the black night sky, decorated with shimmering stars.
She remembered reading about this in Hogwarts, A History. It really wasn't the sky, the ceiling had just been enchanted to reflect what the sky above looked like.
A little shiver went down her spine. It was beautiful.
"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."
Ottilie recognized that voice straightaway. As Professor McGonagall went up to place a rickety, four-legged stool on top of the platform in front of the professors' table, Ottilie turned around to see Hermione behind her. She'd been whispering to the boys she was standing next to.
She noticed Ottilie looking at her and her eyes widened. She put on a forced smile, but she looked nervous.
"Hello, Ottilie! It's good to see you again! What house are you hoping you'll be Sorted into?"
"You too, Hermione," said Ottilie, faking a bubbly voice. "You know, I'm not sure which house I'd like to be in. Well, which one strikes your fancy?"
Hermione's smile faltered at Ottilie's manic cheeriness. "Well, I think I'd like to be in Gryffindor. Headmaster Dumbledore was in Gryffindor when he was at Hogwarts, actually."
"That's fascinating." Ottilie marveled. "I wonder, was he also a pathetic little snitch like you? I mean, if that's a Gryffindor trait, you're all set."
The friendliness in Hermione's face vanished. Her eyes went very wide again. "U-Um. W-Well..."
"How was the rest of your trip to Diagon Alley? Did you end up getting some of those magical sweets you were promised? You'll have to tell me all about them because I certainly didn't get any after landing a week's worth of detention because you went blabbering to Snape and McGonagall."
Hermione's face went very pale. She opened her mouth but was interrupted by someone singing. Ottilie turned back around to face the stage and was surprised enough by what she saw, she forgot about being bitter about Hermione.
Now resting on the stool was an extremely old, frayed hat. The singing seemed to be coming from a tear near the brim, which was moving like a mouth.
"You can keep your bowlers black
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all."
Once the disorientation at seeing a sentient clothing item wore off, Ottilie noticed that Justin and Ernie were giving her hesitant looks. They continued to glance at her throughout the rest of the song. After the hat finished and the applause settled down, Ernie turned to her.
"You got detention?" he asked her. "How do you manage to get detention before you've even started at Hogwarts?"
"By having the misfortune of coming across a miserable tattle-tale," Ottilie said dryly, loudly enough for Hermione to hear.
"What did you do?" asked Justin, leaning in conspiratorially.
Professor McGonagall stepped onto the platform, now holding a long scroll, looking as though she was readying to read a royal decree to the hall.
"Why don't you ask Hermione?" Ottilie said. "She likes telling the story, clearly."
Justin and Ernie looked over their shoulders, presumably to see if Hermione would give them the details of Ottilie's misadventures.
"I-I..." Hermione stammered.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," said McGonagall.
"Never mind," Hermione said. Ottilie didn't have to turn around to know she looked rattled.
"Abbott, Hannah!"
A girl, whose pale face was blotched red, stumbled a bit on her way to the stool. Hannah timidly picked up the hat. She brushed one of her blonde braids behind her shoulder and then lowered it onto her head.
Almost immediately, the hat shouted HUFFLEPUFF!
The rightmost table—the Hufflepuff table apparently—exploded with applause as Hannah scrambled off of the stool and hurried to sit down with them. McGonagall called the next first year and Bones, Susan was sorted into Hufflepuff as well.
Given that her last name started with a V, Ottilie was preparing to stand in the line forever. Though she was doing all that she could to hide it, she was anxious. She didn't particularly enjoy the thought of a thousand pairs of eyes watching her as she handed her destiny over to a piece of moth-eaten cloth.
A few students were sent to the second table to the left, the Ravenclaw table. Then, Brown, Lavender was sent to Gryffindor—the far left table. Their cheers were the loudest so far. Ottilie watched a pair of identical-looking boys with fiery red hair stand up on their bench, whistling and cheering as though their favorite football team had just won the World Cup.
The cheers hadn't yet simmered down from the Gryffindor table before Bulstrode, Millicent was called up to be Sorted. Her eyes were screwed shut as she lowered the hat, but it wasn't on her head for long before it declared her a Slytherin.
She scurried off the platform, passing the Gryffindor table as she went. Ottilie watched the red-haired boys, still standing on their bench, hiss at her tauntingly as she went by. She noticed, in fact, that the entire Great Hall, apart from Slytherin itself, was less than enthusiastic about Millicent's house.
Justin's name was called first out of Ottilie's little group. Ernie wished him good luck as the nervous boy climbed onto the platform. He put the Sorting Hat on and there were a few moments of tense silence before it opened its mouth and declared Justin a HUFFLEPUFF!
Justin beamed at Ottilie and Ernie on his way to the Hufflepuff table, where he was warmly welcomed by his housemates, the Fat Friar waving from where he was hovering above the table just below the candles.
Hermione Granger was the next name Ottilie recognized. She was sorted into Gryffindor and, on her way to the table, Ottilie gave her sarcastic applause which Hermione ignored.
Ernie was called up a few minutes later and was Sorted almost immediately into Hufflepuff. His eyes were shining with enthusiasm at this result, and he gave Ottilie an encouraging nod before he left to join Justin.
By then, Ottilie's feet were sore. Her body was beginning to adjust to the intense amount of magic surrounding her, but it was also starting to numb her. All she wanted was to get some food and then go to bed.
"Potter, Harry!"
The name snapped her back into the present. She knew that name. He was the boy who'd defeated Voldemort when he was only a baby. The book Ottilie had read it in had been vague in the details, but it was a story that was intriguing to her. How exactly was it that an infant had defeated one of the most powerful Dark Wizards in history?
Harry turned out to be a scrawny boy with messy black hair. He wore glasses shielding green eyes a much more striking emerald color compared to her grayish-green ones. Ottilie squinted to see his scar as he went to pick up the Sorting Hat. There was whispering all throughout the Great Hall.
He looked extraordinarily nervous, though, when he lowered the hat onto his head. It didn't immediately call out his house, and Ottilie could see his lips moving as though he was silently talking to someone.
Perhaps he was talking to the hat. Ottilie wondered if you could negotiate with it about which house it put you in. She considered which house she should ask for when it was her turn.
"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted and Harry removed the hat from his head, shaking slightly as he made his way to the table.
The cheers for Harry were the loudest of the night. Ottilie grimaced at the sheer volume. The ginger twins were back up on their benches, dancing as they sang "We got Potter! We got Potter!" over and over.
Ottilie scowled at them and turned back to watch McGonagall call the next student. There was a not-so-subtle pleased smile on her lips.
Slowly, the line of students got smaller and smaller until it was only Ottilie, the redheaded boy who'd been standing next to Harry and Hermione, and a boy with black skin and a piercing gaze who looked like he was thinking participating in this whole charade was beneath him.
"Van der Hoeven, Ottilie," McGonagall called. Ottilie's stomach lurched, and her feet went numb as she climbed onto the platform. She could feel a thousand faces now staring at her as an uncomfortable prickling sensation bubbled in her stomach.
Her mouth was dry when she picked up the hat, turning around to face the student body and doing her very best to keep her gaze focused on the floating candles and away from her audience. It was very quiet in the hall.
The hat was heavier than it looked. She carefully lowered it, her mind racing.
Truthfully, she would have liked to be in Slytherin. But, going off what Ernie had said on the train, she figured her life would be easier in Ravenclaw. She wouldn't mind it—having some academic competition instead of the idiots she normally had as classmates might actually make learning fun.
She felt slightly more confident, allowing the brim of the hat to rest on her hair.
"SLYTHERIN!"
The announcement was so sudden, Ottilie was paralyzed for a moment. She'd not even let go of the hat before it'd made its decision.
Ottilie felt extremely dizzy as she stood, her balance wobbly. There was desperation and dread pooling at the base of her stomach. It had to be a mistake. Ernie had assured her that she needn't worry about being sorted into Slytherin.
Her feet were moving her closer to the Slytherin table on their own. She didn't feel in control of her own body.
As she passed the Gryffindors, she involuntarily glanced at those twins. They didn't taunt her like they did Millicent Bulstrode, but their eyes were cold.
The Slytherin table was applauding Ottilie, though she could tell they were sizing her up in a way she hadn't seen the other houses doing to their new recruits.
She went towards the other first-year Slytherins. She found a spot near a boy with almost white blonde hair and sharp features. He was clapping for her along with the others, but his grey eyes were narrowed suspiciously. On her other side was a pretty girl with thick brown hair and a heart-shaped face.
Zabini, Blaise, the last of the first years, was sorted into Slytherin. He sat on the pretty girl's other side and began talking to her as though they'd known one another for ages.
At the High Table, the elderly wizard sitting at the center on a large, gold chair had gotten to his feet. He had a long silver beard to match his long silver hair. He was rather tall, wearing outlandish purple robes and half-moon glasses perched on his crooked nose.
"Welcome!" he said with a glowing grin. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
Only because she was so taken aback, Ottilie gave a short laugh, though she was the only student at her side of the table who did.
"Thank you!"
The old wizard, who Ottilie gathered was the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, went to sit back down as the Great Hall filled with enthusiastic applause. Moments after, Ottilie was surprised again when dinner materialized from thin air. She ogled at the absurd amount of food.
"I'm Draco Malfoy."
Ottilie turned to the haughty blond boy. He'd said his name as though he was a royal prince and expected her to treat him as such. He was holding out his hand towards her. She narrowed her eyes but shook it anyway.
"What was your surname again?" Draco asked. The boys sitting on his other side, who both looked too large and brawny to only be eleven, were watching with a dull look in their eyes.
She frowned, thinking it highly unusual to be asked her last name before her given name. "It's van der Hoeven."
Draco's eyes were scrutinizing. "I don't recognize it."
"Um. It's Dutch? My...uh...dad got it for me."
"Is he Dutch, then?" asked Draco. "He doesn't work in the Dutch Ministry for Magic, does he? Because, now that I think about it, the name sounds familiar. My father is good friends with the Dutch Minister, you see, so he knows some of the higher-ups there."
She stared at him blankly. "Actually, Draco, my dad is a higher-up. He's King of the Netherlands, in fact. The highest-up, one could even say."
Draco rose his eyebrows. His two friends gave each other looks.
"Really?" asked Draco.
"Yes. And I'm first in line to the Dutch throne."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "You're lying."
"No, I'm not. Look, I'll show you my royal wave." Ottilie lifted her hand to demonstrate.
Clearly, the wave was not enough to convince him. "What does he actually do? Your father."
Ottilie gave him a withering look. "Why are you so obsessed with my dad, Draco?"
"Is he a wizard at least?"
She just stared back at him, unamused. Then, a light flickered on behind his eyes.
"You're Muggle-born, aren't you?" His nose wrinkled in disgust and he moved away a bit.
Ottilie began to load up her plate with food and glanced over at the High Table, ignoring the frenzied whispering Draco was now doing with his friends.
Dumbledore was having a lively chat with McGonagall. Ottilie scanned the rest of the teachers until she spotted a familiar sullen face.
Professor Snape looked just as she remembered him. The teacher next to him—a timid-looking younger man in an absurd purple turban—was attempting to talk to him, but Snape seemed to be uninterested in the conversation.
Throughout the dinner, Ottilie was highly uncomfortable. After Draco Malfoy discovered she was Muggle-born, everyone else began icing her out. If they ignored her existence entirely, that would have been one thing. She was used to that. It was more their whispering and strange looks that were bothering her.
At one point, she glanced over at the Hufflepuff table, but it seemed that Justin and Ernie had already forgotten her, both talking and smiling with Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones.
Why hadn't the Sorting Hat given her some time to plead her case?
After the last bit of food had disappeared, Dumbledore stood once again, the hall falling to reverent silence.
"Ahem—just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you." He smiled warmly. "First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few older students would do well to remember that as well."
Ottilie could have sworn he was looking at those Gryffindor twins as he said this.
As Dumbledore continued, Ottilie began to grow bored. Her body was aching, and she was feeling uncomfortable sitting at this table. All she wanted was to sleep.
"And finally," Dumbledore said. "I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
Ottilie glanced around at the other Slytherins, none of whom seemed to have their interests piqued by Dumbledore's odd warning. She wanted to ask if anyone knew something more about this mysterious forbidden corridor, but she didn't think it would go over well.
"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore said, lifting his arms to give his wand a little flick. A golden ribbon flew out of the tip and twisted itself in the air, forming words. Lyrics to this song, Ottilie realized. It was like they were at karaoke. "Everyone pick their favorite tune and off we go!" He waved his wand again like it was a conductor's baton.
Ottilie was nonplussed at the resulting cacophony, wincing at the discordant melodies. She noticed that her fellow Slytherin first years were not singing along. Neither was Snape, who appeared particularly disapproving.
Everyone finished at different times until the Gryffindor twins were the only ones left, singing a slow, woeful dirge. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines.
Seriously. Gryffindors really were full of themselves.
The students were dismissed, throwing the Great Hall into a racket as everyone began speaking at once. A few older students were calling for first-year Slytherins to follow them to the common room.
On her way out, she saw Ernie and Justin headed to their own common room. They caught sight of her, and she could see the anxious shine on their faces. Ernie gave her what she thought was his attempt at an encouraging smile. Justin couldn't manage it, however. He looked terrified on her behalf.
Well, at least she wouldn't have to deal with them anymore.
The Slytherins descended several floors, the air growing cooler and light dimmer with each step. They were deep underground by the time they'd reached a narrow, stone corridor.
It felt like she was being taken to a dungeon looking at the rough, low-domed ceiling and the uneven ground. The torches were fewer and farther in between, and some of the wooden doors were armored with wrought-iron bars.
After the long, winding trek, the group arrived at what appeared to be a deadend.
"Non ducor, duco," said one of the prefects at the front of the group. Right away, Ottilie heard other students gasping in awe. Looking over her classmates' heads, she could just make out what they were reacting to. Where a solid stone wall had been before was now an entrance into another passageway narrower than any they'd been through yet.
Slowly, Slytherin first years made their way through the passage. Ottilie was eager to see the common room and had to resist pushing the kids in front of her to speed up the process. She was last in line, so it felt like it'd been forever when she stepped through the threshold.
The passageway opened up to a long room with low ceilings and walls of natural rock. There was a green glow to the room, resulting from green lamps hanging from the walls. The sound of rushing water confused her for a moment before she realized the back wall was glass instead of rock. She figured this glass wall was separating the common room from the lake near the castle.
That meant they must have been really far underground.
On the other walls were paintings of moving figures whispering to each other and pointing at the new Slytherins. Silver swords, skulls, and other sinister curio decorated other parts of the wall, and books with fraying spines lined bookcases of dark wood.
Ottilie went nearer to the fire blazing under an ornate mantlepiece. Collected around the fire were several dark green chairs and sofas. Older Slytherins were sitting on them, silhouetted by the fire.
Only then did Ottilie notice many of the first years had already disappeared.
"Lost already, Mudblood?" a dark voice asked from behind her. Ottilie turned around to see Draco Malfoy sneering at her, a few other first-year Slytherins standing to his side.
He'd said this loudly enough that some of the older students turned around in their chairs to look at Ottilie.
"You're a Mudblood?" asked one girl who seemed to be in her later teens.
Ottilie stared back emotionlessly.
She chose not to answer and set off to find her dormitory for herself. Instead, she was pushed backward roughly by one of Draco's large friends.
"Don't you know Mudbloods don't belong in Slytherin?" asked Draco as he walked towards her. "If you ask me, they don't belong in Hogwarts at all."
"Take it up with the Sorting Hat," she said, a tone of warning in her voice. She wasn't nearly as intimidated by Draco as she was by the wizard in Knockturn Alley, but she still reached into the pocket in her robes to grab her wand. Just in case.
Everyone in the common room was watching the confrontation now. Ottilie very much wanted to punch this kid in the face but figured getting into even more trouble was not in her best interest.
"So, what do you think of our common room, Mudblood?" asked Draco. "Figure you're just glad to be away from the putrid smell of your disgusting Muggle hovel, away from your worthless Muggle parents. Or, wait, perhaps it's too clean for you here? Maybe it's overwhelming. You know, I'm sure Hogwarts has a place where they keep all of the stinking rubbish. Maybe you'd feel less homesick sleeping there for a few—"
"Flipendo!"
Ottilie's spell knocked Draco clean off of his feet. He screamed in surprise as he flew back and landed hard on his back. His features twisted with pain.
She took several swift steps to him and pointed her wand at his chest.
"Silencio!"
Immediately, Draco's pitiful whimpers were rendered inaudible. He scowled at her, lips moving but no noise coming out. She grinned down at him balefully.
"What's wrong, Draco?" she asked him. He reached up to grab at the hem of one of his friend's robes. "Feeling a bit tongue tie—ARGH!"
The large boy standing closest to Ottilie, the one with a flat nose and small forehead, had wound back his fist and punched her hard in the face. Rattled, she staggered backward, trying to blink away the stars in her eyes before collapsing onto the cold dungeon floor.